


Ache Like Sorrow

by JustabookjunkieIneednohelp



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Angst, Bottom Ronan Lynch, F/M, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, POV Adam Parrish, POV Ronan Lynch, Prom, Sex, Shower Sex, Top Adam
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-10
Updated: 2018-09-10
Packaged: 2019-07-10 15:43:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15952454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustabookjunkieIneednohelp/pseuds/JustabookjunkieIneednohelp
Summary: *This was no new, shiny Ronan; it was the same cleaved version. Like a cluster of scarlet blooms in the raptured site of an earthquake:  brown dirt splayed, neon green trees uprooted, glass skyscrapers paused in mid-crash. He was savage, frightening and inadvertently alluring. A conduit for destruction past. A promise of annihilation yet to come. Adam smirked back, mischievous. He loved earthquakes.*OrYou'd think after an year of dating, Ronan would be less hesitant to ask Adam to prom. But Ronan isn't sure if Adam would even want to go.Adam is disappointed as days to prom decrease and Ronan's persisted ignorance to the fact increases.OrThe fic where the Gangsey's proposals involve: a boy sized box, a crown of twigs and post-it notes.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It was supposed to be a one shot guys, but it ran away from me. No more haitus. I'll get back to my other fics soon. <3 
> 
> Kudos, comments and criticisms are appreciated. Thanks for the support.
> 
> Enjoy. ;)

Sweltering you way through school, eyes stinging with sweat, joints aching with over exertion, mind sharp from too much time spent awake and too little spent asleep was exactly what Adam wanted. Each day he spent toiling, each painful twinge of his muscle reminded Adam that he was moving foward, achieving something. It made him feel content, feel worthy. And somewhere along way the harsh path that he walked had gone from bearable to comforting. 

This development was partly due to his friends, Adam wouldn't let his parent's take that away from him. He had gone too long without people who loved him, would be there for him, afraid they would inevitably disappoint him like his parents had. He had come to learn that they would, at least some, but he wouldn't let that fear restrict him. Adam now realised perhaps that's how monsters were made; how cruel and hateful men were made. He didn't want that for himself.

Friends like Gansey, Henry, Noah and Blue. A stubborn, overbearing lot with a penchant to pry a little too much, even now that he needed less prying. They were the additional roots, grounding him to the earth, ones he didn't know he needed until recently. Adam was always surprised to find them there, steady presences when he desperately needed assistance that he couldn't ask for. So not all his habits could be broken so easily and this one he didn't particularly want to let go, maybe dim, but not eradicate. Adam had always been a self made man. Would always be one.

And then there was Ronan: someone he hadn't never known he wanted. Wanted like an addict wants his high, like the sun that wants to burn, like the stars that want to fall. It was an impending thing, one he couldn't control once it started. One he didn't want to control. 

Ronan made Adam happy.

So a few months ago, when Ronan had asked Adam to become his boyfriend, Adam couldn't comprehend how the answer could be anything but yes. Gansey had been Gandey and made Adam promise not to break Ronan and made Ronan promise to be careful. As if their relationship was a volatile entity: they may fight a lot, but Ronan and Adam knew they loved each other more than they knew they were right in whatever spat they had had. Noah had been smug, as if he had known all along and Blue had signed dramatically, before slumping on the sofa and throwing Ronan a taunting smirk: "About time Lynch" to which Ronan had snarled viciously, before collapsing next to her. They both had spent the rest of the night trying to usurp the other from the sofa.

It was to Ronan he looked now, buzzed head thrown back; eyes closed: dark lashes lingering against his sharp cheekbones, his lips curled into a vague scowl. Ronan always scowled, sometimes even in bed. Until Adam had his way that is. They had experienced each other a lot, slowly, preciously. Discovered nooks and crannies the other hadn't known existed. They just hadn't sex yet. Adam sometimes wondered if Ronan got frustrated, if he wished.. 

Ronan sat on the bench next to Adam, chipped and marred picnic. One of the few imperfect things in Aglionby, a playground for spoilt, rich boys. He sat leaning back, weight braced on his splayed hands which griipped the edge. His knuckles white and bruised. Adam's eyes followed the arch of his hands, over his straining arms, looking delectable with muscles that spoke of farm work and menial labour. 

Skimming Ronan's shoulders with the shadow of a tan, draped with only a thin strip of his black tank top, snagging on the dip of his sharp collar bone, the gleaming sweat on his neck. Adam wanted to lick it off. Ronan looked like a warning sign, a land mine, with his harsh features, tatoo peeking out like claws desperate to rip you apart. Like tumultuous waves that wanted to drown you: quickly, savagely complete with a dose of snark. He looked like something that would see the extent of the twisted, broken and dark thing that was Adam Parrish and cackle in delight.  
Unable to resist any longer, Adam bought his fingers to rest on the boy's knee, tracing circles on them as his palm rose ever higher. Ronan slowly opened his eyes, a soft smile on his face, his eyes glinting with mirth. Bright blue eyes sparkling in the sun. But not because of it.

"Parrish" 

"Lynch"

"What are you thinking about?"

"You" Ronan answered, tenderly jerking Adam's face forward with his right hand, calluses scraping Adam's chin, until they had mere inches between them.

Scoffing, Adam circled Ronan's wrist, before tugging it off. "Even you can't get away saying something as cliche as that."

Winking, Ronan wound their hands together.

"I don't want to get away with it, getting caught by you is the fun part. "

"Ronan! " groaned Adam, ears burning with embarrassment. "Do you care that you sound like every douche bag from every teen romance movie ever made? "

Smirking, Ronan ruffled Adam's hair, "I'm joking asshole. A shit head like you needs attention, so I gave it. What kind of a boyfriend would I be if I left you feeling needy and neglected? "

That pried the barest flicker of a smile from Adam' s lips, even as he tried to shove it away. Ronan did not need positive reinforcement for his dreadful sense of humour.

"Fuck off Lynch."

And luckily that's when they were interrupted by Gansey and Henry.

"Lynch!" Henry exclaimed as he made his way over to the table, an arm slung over Gansey.

"Fucker." Ronan nodded in response, which was downright civil for Ronan who had spent the first few months Henry had started getting closer to the group alternate between snarling at him to leave and outright denying his existence. These were happier times. Still Gansey frowned at the expletive Ronan flung at Henry like the irreverent charity of a royal to an undeserving peasant. Henry only smiled in return, unperturbed.

Adam's first and lasting impression had been: charming smile and hair. Said hair stood to a proud length, even in this heat. Adam was not a man easily impressed, but this feat he acknowledged and admired Henry for, who always looked put together meticulously, dazzlingly. Even know I'm his Aglionby uniform, an unoriginal combination of a white button down, teal trousers and black shoes (gleaming) Henry drew the eye.

"As I was telling Gansey boy I'm in charge so if you want something, have any ideas, or suggestions I'd more than welcome the input. Though knowing you, I probably won't take it. Parrish, hey."

Perhaps this is why Ronan had a grudge against Henry, he was the only other person who called Adam Parrish. Trust Ronan to be jealous of the way someone said his name.

"Hi Henry, what are you talking about? I didn't catch that."

"Yeah, Henry boy, what the fuck are you on about?" Ronan sneers unhelpfully, earning another frown from Gansey.

"Prom! Prom people! You know that thing that happens at the end of the year, to celebrate our youth and beauty, where we choose kings and queens? Full of joy, swearing and alcohol!" Henry added mockingly.

Gansey's frown deepens, adjusting his glasses he interrupted Henry as politely as he could, missing Henry's tone: "Actually Henry I --"

"I speak in jest Gansey boy, obviously there shall be no such thing even if I had any say in this matter -- which I don't, some rules are set in stone -- I would not support such an atrocity. As if the students obnoxious enough."

This Henry says with a pointed look at Ronan, recieving a proud smirk for his trouble. Lips twitching Adam assured Henry that he would pass on any ideas if they arose, though he was positive that Henry wI'll be able to handle this spectacularly, knowing him. Beaming Henry strode off, no doubt to hassle some other students.  
Gansey threw Adam a grateful glance, to which Adam answerrd sincerely: "I meant it." shrugging off Gansey's praise, which left a warmth in Adam even after an year of friendship Upon closer inspection of Gansey Adam could see how his hair had a few stray stands, his eyes just so slightly crumpled in worry, his cuffs pushed up his arms hazardly, they may look to be the work of a harried student in the Virginia heat, but Gansey was never harried, unless it had anything to do with his research, or Ronan. His glasses, present, were the most conspicuous clue. Something was bothering Gansey.

Almost as if in acquiescence to Adam's thought, Gansey gently dropped his bag on the bench opposite Adam, folding onto the sun warmed surface dejectedly.  
"For god sake Gansey. What?" 

Trust Ronan to be the tactful one. 

Running his thumb over his lip, Gansey seemed to collect his words, sorting and picking from a vast variety.

"Actually" he began leaning forward on his arms , hands clasped in front of him, "I've been thinking..." squinting slightly, Gansey scratched his knuckle lightly, "Do you think Blue will agree to join me? I mean obviously I understand she has her school's too, maybe I could come there. We could go to each others. Not that I'm assuming she'll want me to accompany her. Perhaps she'll refuse to come to mine. It's all equally plausible."

"You want to fuck Sargent on prom? Gansey that's disgusting. Why are you asking us?"

Gansey paused, confused, before realising how words such as 'join'and 'come' could come into play in a different context. As he turned an unflattering shade of, Adam decided it was time to intervene and relieve him from the suffering a Lynch could bestow when in the mood. Sending a glare in Ronan's direction, Adam cut into Gansey's indignant sputtering.

"We know what you mean Gansey. Ronan's just being an ass. Of course she'll go to prom with you. Aren't you already her boyfriend?"

"Yes, but she may not be keen on the idea of prom. I've heard her complain of the societal constructs it makes one obey."

Adam couldn't help but feel an incongruous thrum of pleasure, this unsure, sputtering boy, this boy who felt so deeply was the one Adam loved best, not beccause he wanted Gansey unsure and aputterung, or because Gansey did not feel deeply other times, but because this Gansey was a boy amiable, not a king unattainable. He was one with flaws. Gansey he would follow to the grave if Gansey asked it, be it king, or boy, but he was endlessly endeared to this Gansey. The one who let them see his insecurities. Gansey the human. 

It may have been Blue had fallen in love with Gansey, but they were all a little in love with him.

"Gansey, Blue has an opinion on hideous boat shoes too. That doesn't mean she doesn't find them endearing on your feet. She'll go with you."

Adam Parrish was a creature of logic and if he claimed Blue would go with such conviction, then it could be nothing but the simple truth. Gansey let out a relieved sigh, before processing the rest of the sentence.

"My boat shoes are sophisticated!" he sqawked.

Churlish laughter echoed the statement, "Nope, they're just hideous." said Noah popping the p of ' nope', as he clattered a tray of food on the table, reaching out to fist bump a grinning Ronan. 

"Who are you taking to prom?" Gansey diverted, appealing to Noah's love for any kind of party to abandone the topic of his questionable taste in footwear.

"Oh, I'm planning on ask Henry." Noah chirped, stuffing fries in his face.

"You like Henry?" Ronan asked,him incredulous, more affected by the person Noah had fallen for, than the gender, after all it was common knowledge Noah didn't discriminate between genders. He'd had a non - binary girlfriend only a few months prior. Adam had harboured a sneaking suspicion on Noah and Henry inclination s towards the other and he was sure Ronan knew, but it seemed Gansey had no clue judging by his hurt expression when Adam had smiled encouragingly in response.

"You knew?" he asked Adam.

"I like him Ronan, he's Henry." Noah said, as if Henry was reason enough for Noah to like him. 

"It wasn't hard to figure out Gansey." Adam replied undeterred. Gansey was not the most astute when it came to reading people's crushes.

"Whatever man, if I didn't know he was completely into you too, I'd skin him alive. Tell him I still will. Where did you get fries from?" Ronan said , grabbing a handful as Noah batted him away, explaining how the lunch lady made them for him especially as she knew he hated the vegetable slop they made on wednesday's. Noah had that affect on numerous people, even the ones with skin like rock, the lunch lady being one of said people -- even Ronan kept his mouth shut around the woman. It was Noah's irresistible charm, sunny, but polite personality and his buoyant grin that won over everyone that met him.

Meanwhile Gansey continued looking affronted, as Noah threw the question to Ronan: "Are you two going?"

Ronan stilled, fingers clenching under the table, Adam felt is heart dive. Did Ronan not want to go? Did he not want to go with Adam? The silence sat dense and prickly as even Gansey levelled a worrying gaze towards Adam who stared at Ronan, who in turn kept staring at Noah. 

"How are you asking?" Ronan croaked. Adam's heart sank further as he realised what Ronan was doing.

Sparing Adam an apologetic glance, Noah explained what he was planning, babbling the details with an overzealous excitement. Swallowing twice, Adam wiped his palms on his trousers. Her felt an embarrassed heat flush spread up his neck, his breaths seemed to be coming out wrong. He didn't understand, why Ronan wouldn't answer. Had Adam done something wrong?

Trying to quell his disappointment, Adam calmly collected his things. Looking over the group, he kept his voice neutral.

"I need to see the teacher before lesson to ask a few questions."

He couldn't help but look in Ronan's direction, who stared back: face void of emotion. He reached out a hand to grip Adam's gently. Was this an apology?

"I'll see you later?" Swimming is confusion Adam made a noise of affirmation, squeezing Ronan's hand once and left with a nod to the others. Was he overreacting? Perhaps Ronan didn't even think prom was an option for them, it didn't necessarily have anything to do with Adam.

Still Adam couldn't help the twinge of sadness as it plucked a familiar chord through him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Give me your predictions on which prom items mentioned in the summary you think are for which pair. ;)
> 
> Hit me up on Tumblr or here. <3 https://darkdarkmydesire.tumblr.com


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I uploaded again in the same week. Shocker I know. ;)  
> Enjoy guys. I had fun writing it. Leave kudos, criticisms and comments. They mean a lot. <3

Sitting at the sofa in Monmouth, across from Blue, Adam let his head fall on the back of the sofa, mirroring Blue's posture, so they say like two parenthesis enfolding all the words Adam refused to speak aloud.

"Adam... Is it the prom thing?"

Groaning Adam closed his eyes, shutting out he sight of a Blue; clad in a dress emulating her name, a thin, cotton number; pretty and feminine with it's fluttering hem. The sky blue dress matched with black and grey skull embellished knee socks, combat boots and a jean jacket with an abundance of badges and feathers sewn on it, giving it a whimsical, but badass vibe. Very much like Blue, who now reached up to redo her tiny pony tail, head littered with multicolored clips.

Adam just had his overalls, greased stained from work on. Hair in disarray.

"Maybe he doesn't want to go." Adam moaned. This earned him a smack from Blue on his forehead. Scowling she flicked Adam on the ear, "Maybe he thinks you don't want to. You two are impossible. Just ask him to go with you."

"What?" Adam asked startled, "I can't do that!"

"Why not?"

When Blue was only met with silence, she carried on, without the ear flicking this time.

"Do you want to go?"

"Well... I suppose so." 

Upon receiving a particularly piercing glare, Adam ran his hand through his hair: "Fine, yes. I do."

"So ask him."

Smiling, Adam smiled at Blue, fond. The way she put it, it seemed inexplicably easy. Simple, expected. And perhaps it was. Adam was willing to try, this thing with Ronan was worth it, at the very least they could have a conversation about it, instead of carefully avoiding the topic, like it was nuclear glass lining their lives.

Decisively, Adam replied. "I will."

"Whoop whoop Sergeant."

"Bluueeee!"

These overzealously excited exclamations came from Henry and Noah respectively, both of whom had come bursting through the door followed by Gansey and a slinking Ronan at the tail. Huffing a laugh Blue let the two bombard her with hugs, while Gansey looked on despondent.

Adam watched the trio wearily, today's shift had left him exhausted; Ronan made his way to Adam, running his fingers through Adam's hair.

"Tired Parrish?"

Adam only hummed in response, enjoying Ronan's cool fingers rubbing his scalp and weaving through his locks, letting his eyes close. Fluttering his eyes open only when Adam felt Ronan's breath tickling his face: he found the other boy an inch away. Stormy blue eyes boring into Adam, a crease in his eyebrow, leaning up Adam kissed it: once, twice. Ghosting his lips over Ronan's face before attaching them to Ronan's. Ronan stilled above him, half curled over. The kiss short and sweet: it said hello, it said I missed you, it said stay with me, it said everything Adam felt and was still learning to say. 

When they came up for air, Adam smiled; soft and small.

"Hey."

"That will never stop being terrifying." Henry exclaimed shuddering in exaggeration: a grin painting his face. Ronan's snarl only caused the boy to raise his eyebrow innocently, smile still present.

"Henry, Ronan play nice." Gansey chastised, though the affect was ruined as he was currently rifling through his desk with a Blue taking a piggy back ride on his back. This promted Noah to point out that Gansey was indeed right, before twisting to look at Henry who had taken residency on the floor next to him and relaying his opinion about how he thought Ronan and Adam were adorable. This also earned a snarl from Ronan, albeit a half hearted one. Henry's expression turned complicated at Noah's wistful tone. His face changed back to his normal jubilant grin too fast for anyone to notice, but Adam had. He was very good at observing people without getting caught.

"I'm going to go take a quick shower" Adam announced to no one, walking towards Ronan's room where he now kept a few clothes, as Ronan did at St.Agnes. They slept over so often at each other's, it had seemed the logical thing to do. Or that's how Adam had put it to Ronan, when he first brought up the suggestion and nothing to do with the fact that Adam found the sight of Adam's shirt on Ronan enticing, when Ronan had 'accidentally ' worn it after ruining his own, during... activities. Adam had secretly hoped he would wear them more often, especially as he now permanently slept in one of Ronan's.

Ronan jumped up, following Adam, "I'll help." he called out, receiving a swiftly thrown pillow from Adam as he passed Gansey's bed. It hit him square in the face. Ronan only laughed in return, a joyous, carefree sound, as Gansey smiled fondly at them, over Henry, Blue and Noah's coalesced cackling. Henry wolf whistled just as Ronan closed his door.

Adam was already in the shower.

The water beat a steady rythm, as Ronan slipped inside, locking the door behind him. Ronan took a moment, just leaning against the door, marvelling at where he was. Astonished even now that he was allowed to be here, here with Adam. Was allowed, to touch him, kiss him, love him openly. No longer did he need to steal glance, take sips, brush few and fleeting touches. He could have him, Adam had let Ronan want him, had gone as far as wanting him back. The ache however, never dissipated. It still pressed against his skin, a thing too big to simply be classified as urge, or want, or need. It seemed like sadness, like joy so pure it could be madness. It was all Ronan could think about, it was present as soon as he awoke, lingering as he fell asleep, it crept in when Ronan did anything, from racing to reading for class, even as he held Adam, it wasn't enough. Sometimes the depth of what he was asking terrified him,. What if it was too much for Adam? 

This was the reason Ronan hadn't immediately said yes, when Noah had asked about prom. Maybe Adam wasn't ready to be so public, so official. It had taken him a month to be alright with the constant touching in public; the hand holding, the kissing. Their friends had never counted as public. Gritting his teeth, Ronan blew a harsh breath through just teeth. Adam seemed fine, happy even, he was probably relieved. It wasn't that Ronan wanted to attend a dance with Aglionby boys. He just wanted to spend a night with Adam in his arms, a night where he could call Adam his boyfriend in front of a hundred strangers, could hear Adam tell a hundred strangers that Ronan was his and he was Ronan's.

"Ronan? Are you waiting for me to finish?" Adam peeked his head out from behind the shower curtain, smirking. The ache surfaced sharp and urgent at the sight of Adam's bare shoulder, wet hair dripping down his face.

"Adam," Ronan said, voice rasping "Adam, Adam, Adam," crossing the distance he kissed him ferociously, desperately. Even amongst all this water Ronan was parched. Ronan groaned as Adam opened his mouth, both hands clutching Ronan's black t-shirt as if he was adrift and he had decided that if it was imminent, then Ronan would be the only person he'd glady be adrift with. Distantly Ronan felt the water puddle around his ankle, heard dim sounds of laughter. All Ronan felt was Adam's slick skin, all he heard was Adam's heaving breaths.

"Get in Lynch." Adam murmured against his lips, biting Ronan's lip hard. If Ronan had been more aware, if he had cared about anything but how Adam tasted he would have been embarrassed by the guttural sound that escaped him, the whimper that followed, the whine that escaped at the momentary loss of contact, as Adam moved to make room for him.

Stumbling in, Ronan gasped as Adam pushed him into the wall, sucking on his neck. A very naked Adam, every inch glisten under the water. It hung off him, like a smattering of pearls on his sun tanned skin. His hands dug into Adam's hips, head falling back against the tiled wall, eyes on the ceiling as he felt Adam's hands under his shirt, over his shoulder, skimming his behind, grabbing him through his clinging, saturated trousers, all the while stroking lazy circles on his neck with his tongue.  
Ronan hissed as Adam began palming him slowly. "Jesus, Adam," he swallowed roughly. "I need to... I want..."

Flicking his neck one last time, Adam pulled back, "What?" he asked simpering: lips bruised, damp, sandy blonde hair falling into his face, eyes; pale blue, pupils dilated. His naked chest brushing up against Ronan with each exhale.

"Let me." Ronan said, voice hoarse. Adam leant up to kiss the corner of Ronan's lips in acquiescence.

"Take your clothes of too." he whispered breathily in Ronan's ear.

Shuddering Ronan obliged, biting his lips to keep from groaning at the propriety gaze Adam ran over him, clearly aroused, hungrily eyeing Ronan's own proof of desire. Slowly Ronan knelt at Adam's feet, hands running up his calf, coming to grip the back of his knees. His teeth followed the same path, grazing up towards Adam's thighs, the inside of his thighs. Adam's shivered, gasping Ronan's name as he bit Adam's sharp hip bone. Licking his way around, teasing Adam even as his own self begged for release. Hearing Adam whimper and hiss when Ronan kissed the freckles littered on his skin, stars in a velvet sky.

"I love these." Ronan muttered into Adam's skin. Grabbing Adam's hand from where it braced against the cool tile, he nipped each of Adam's knuckles, each tip of Adam's fingers, licking his palm while staring into Adam's lust drenched eyes. 

"And these." 

Adam groaned; loud and open mouth, bucking his hips. 

"Ronan please."

Chuckling throatily, he watched Adam as brought his mouth down, stopping just shy.

"Please."

Smiling, Ronan lowered his head, taking Adam in. He elicited a hiss of pleasure as Ronan swallowed him. 

"Oh god yes Ronan." Adam sighed, clenching his fists on Ronan's head. His moans getting louder, hands tugging at Ronan harder, hips grinding faster, begging Ronan to go, go, go. Soon Adam was cuming, violent as he shattered in Ronan's mouth an array of expletives and Ronans tumbling from his mouth, much to Ronan's pleasure.  
Slumping back, Adam shivered as Ronan slipped off. Ronan stood, Adam lifted off the wall, intending to return the favour.

"No, you're tired." 

Adam frowned.

"Shut up Lynch." he said, voice cracking.

Winding an arm around his waist Ronan tugged Adam closer, smiling exasperated. Ronan lay his head on Adam's shoulder, gulping as Adam gripped his backside with one hand, his front in the other, stroking him slowly, getting revenge for making him wait before.

"Adam." Ronan growled, scratching his nails over Adam's spine.

Adam stopped. 

"Behave Lynch." 

Ronan stopped immediately.

Huskily, Adam laughed: "Good." He continued tormenting Ronan, taking his time, slowing and quickening until Ronan whimpered, groaned, unravelled. Like a yarn of wool spilling under Adam's touch.

"Come on fucker." he snarled.

Releasing a soft laugh, Adam pulled Ronan roughly in return. Ronan's nails dug into Adam's shoulders, his teeth biting Adam's neck; hard as Ronan came with a hoarse cry into Adam's hands. 

They stayed like that a minute, hands on each other, bodies pressed close, skin to skin, Ronan's lashes fluttering rapidly against Adam's neck. Grazing his lips in apology, where he had bitten him, Ronan caught Adam's face in his hands. Pushing Adam's hair out of his face, Ronan smirked.

"Want to shower Parrish? You know, to clean up the mess you made?"

Scoffing Adam brought his hand to Ronan's chest, palm pressing over his racing heart.

"You took care of mine, this is your mess."

Unashamed Ronan gripped Adam once again, sliding his hand along the length; indolent.

"We can fix that."

"Asshole." gritted out Adam.

"You complaining?" Ronan asked, voice all faux innocence and sweetness.

Adam's answering growl evoked a burst of laughter from Ronan; it sounded like a cacophony of wing beats. A happy, free sound.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the support guys! This chapter has fluff and Ronan teasing Gansey. Can you ask for more? 
> 
> Tell me what you think about it.
> 
> For MaryC because they got the Ronan/Adam promposal right, send me one thing you want to see in this fic and I'll try my best to incorporate it well. 
> 
> <3

Ronan stood leaning against his car, the steady thrum of the idling engine rumbling under him, as he leaned against the vehicle. It was times like these that Ronan wished he smoked, to have something, anything to do with his fingers as he waited for Adam to finish his shift at the factory. To ignore the way his body hummed with the potential of Adam near it. It was a different type of high, one even racing couldn't replicate; a coalition of unease and expectation.

Ronan wouldn't exchange it for anything. 

This moment, as the surprisingly chilly wind nipped his face, an autumn day inexplicably dropped into the endless summer that was Henrietta. It was extremely Virginia of the weather to do so. He had arrived especially early today, today was when he would try, try to ask Adam his opinion on prom, in being public It wasn't that Ronan was planning to ask Adam tonight, he just wanted to know if Adam was ready to go further with Ronan. After being cornered once again by the queries on prom, this time by Gansey, who had given Ronan an exasperated glance: 'just talk to him Ronan' he had said gently. Ronan had decided he would, if only because the thought that if he couldn't understand and respect Adam's decision on this matter, how would he stop himself from destroying everything they had a few months down the line? After all, it was just a high school prom. Ronan would get over it if Adam refused. 

Sighing Ronan dragged a hand over his shaved head, the buzz prickling his palm, he needed to shave it again and soon. He only wanted Adam to be happy, he wanted them both to be happy together. Naively, he wanted Adam and his relationship to be smooth sailing for ever, without end. They fought, sure, but they always loved each other more. Love. It wasn't a word either of them had said.  
Ronan sighed again. It wouldn't matter to him. It wouldn't. Still he couldn't help the doubt that seeped into the cracks of his conviction, like smoke, like poison. What if Adam thought Ronan was asking to much? Adam wasn't an idiot, he would be able to see that Ronan wanted him to go to prom. Worse, what if Adam felt pressured into something he wasn't ready for? 

Clenching his fists, Ronan wrangled with the rage that swept up in him, rage at the potentiality of inadvertently making Adam leave, leave him. Fury so unadulterated, it pulsed blue.; raw as the hottest flame, it engulfed him as he recalled who exactly was responsible for Adam's reservations. Who exactly had broken him so thoroughly, so completely that he still flinched at unseen touches, at loud noises, sometimes disappearing so wholly into himself. More than the anger Ronan felt a wave of sorrow, at what Adam had been through, how he had suffered for so long alone; pride, pride at how Adam Parrish, his own self, alone (much to Ronan's digression) and with strength, dignity had left, had not only survived, but learned to thrive in spite of the conditions life had thrown him in, despite the obstacles life had presented. And this was why Ronan Lynch loved the stubborn creature that was Adam Parrish, because he had been made to believe all his life he was a thing lesser and had come out being more than anyone; everyone. Just them Ronan heard the scoffing of footsteps walking towards him.

"Stalking me now Lynch?" Adam smiled, tired but fond, a tone he only used around Ronan, in his voice.

"If picking up my diligent, hard working, stubborn ass of a boyfriend is stalking. Then yes Parrish I am and will continue to do so until a very long time. So get used to it." Ronan smiled, all arrogance as he watched Adam make his way to him. A worn out blue sweater and jeans ripped and dirty, Ronan frowned. He must be cold.  
Noticing his stare, Adam explained, "I had to wash the others, I got grease on them."

"All of them?"

"Yes I've been too preoccupied lately to do laundry." he replied, giving Ronan a significant look.

Ronan only shrugged; unapologetic.

Shaking his head, Adam leaned up to kiss Ronan, grabbing his belt loops to pull him in. He was already moving away when Ronan realised what was happening, his mind catching up to his body. His lips the only warm part of him.  
Turning he went to the driver's side, Adam already slipping into the BMW. The thing with Ronan was he never did anything calmly; quietly, so when he too sat on his seat, he flung himself in, making the whole car to shake under his weight and shudder once again as he slammed the door shut. Tires squealing as he reversed out at breakneck speed, hands jerking the steering wheel, swerving from the curb to wider roads ahead. Flicking on the heating, with more force than necessary.  
Adam only layed his head on the window. Smiling a private smile. It was reflected on Ronan's face. It said I know you, it said I'm amused, it said I'm happy here with you even when you act like a stereotypical douche. It said I'm happy with you too asshole.

"Monmouth?" Adam asked.

"Just driving." Ronan answered. A question. A request. A choice of Adam's. Adam said nothing. Which meant Adam said yes.

And so they drove, two boys, in a charcoal grey car, under a starless, cloudy sky. Winding down the dust roads of Henrietta; going nowhere and somewhere. Two boys: one dark haired, one light; one poisonous as a snake, one sharp as a knife; both blue eyed; both dangerous; both smiling: both in love with the night and each other.

Ronan drove and drove, past the shrubbery outside Henrietta, past Monmouth, past the lights sprinkled through Henrietta, past the small shops and the smaller houses, past Aglionby: a mammoth, looming thing. Past memories of yesterday, today and the ones to be made tomorrow and out of the other side, past more shrubbery and dust and trees. Driving awhile, they came to a stop next to a field: swaying with ankle length grass, the occasional flower sprouting amid a cluster of weeds, all doused in the blanket that was night. Only the palest glimmer of the moon visible, everything a dark shadow against the backdrop of darker shadows.

Both boys made their way out of the car; silent. It wasn't the first time they had ended up in a place away from Henrietta: new, wild, belonging to them and no one else in that moment. They had spent many nights, rediscovering place after place: a field, a forest, an abandoned lot. Together. Hand in hand, had kissed their way across the land with nothing but the sky their witness. Sometimes they made it back in time to sleep in beds, sometimes they slept in the car, sometimes they slept under the stars.

Leaving the engine running, both boys climbed into the hood it was warm, the engine emanating heat. They said nothing, language was for another time, other day. Their bodies were the ones that spoke here: calloused hands, soft lips, rough stubble. They clung to each other, kissing at times, merely holding at others. Adam was too tired, Ronan was too awake. Both were there for the other, words had no place here. So there they stayed, kissing, laying: intertwined. 

Adam knew he had been falling for a long while now, was still falling, even as Ronan's tongue twisted in his mouth, sweeping away everything he had been, leaving nothing but an insatiable ferocity. One that petrified Adam, petrified him with how much he loved the being that was Ronan Lynch.

Ronan had often wondered if there was an end, a bottom to what he felt for Adam, anything that could be contained. He had come to find there wasn't and now as Adam was melting into him, was pressed firmly beneath him, he didn't wish for it. For now, in this moment, Ronan felt alive, felt whole, felt loved.

[-----------------]

 

Adam rose to consciousness, but didn't open his eyes. Lingering in the threshold between awake and not quite, the hazy, malleable space where everything seemed like a possibility, remnants of last night came to him. Like slips of parchment etched ebullient, like snapshots captured exultant, each sharp with joy. Lingering, bringing a curl to his lips.Ronan had driven to the factory, waiting for Adam to finish his shift. Adam was struck still when he first saw him, not out of surprise, Ronan often came to pick Adam up and Adam no longer resented it, no longer looked at it as a charity, he knew how why Ronan did it now. It was because even now, after months of dating, two years as friends, Ronan had the ability to snatch the pulse from his veins, giving it back quickened, heightened. He had stood, one leg folded against his car: sleek, vicious; eyes black from the distance, clad in leather, usual black entourage. His hair buzzed, a five o'clock shadow peppering his sharp face: high cheekbones, blue eyes like thunder, scowl adorning his cruel thin lips; he was dangerous, unknowable, Adam's. He was Adam's. And that realisation still knocked the breath from him. Here was a thing Adam could love without breaking it. Here was a thing that loved Adam back.

It was then Adam had realised the extent of what he felt, not mere lust and like, but love. He had known before too, but had been afraid to admit. It wasn't that he wasn't afraid now, he was, he was just more afraid of letting Ronan slip away from him. And so they had driven, stopped and kissed. Still Adam couldn't bring himself to say the words to Ronan.

Slowly, Adam fluttered open his eyes, soon, he'd tell Ronan soon. Perhap after breakfast, Ronan had slept over, so it didn't need to be a drawn out affair. He was met with the sight of dozens upon dozens of pastel sticky notes: blue, pink, yellow, orange stuck to his ceiling. They covered every inch of the wall, scattered haphazardly, scrawled with something Adam couldn't make out. Sitting up he realised it wasn't only the ceiling but every wall, the door to the bathroom even, the door of his apartment. And every other surface: the floor, the rickety side drawer Adam had bought at a yard sale, his desk, his bedsheets, the thin blanket covering him was strewn with petals. Petals of blood red, pale white, burnt orange, sunset pink littered his room, soft and damp under his fingers in the way that fresh flowers are. Ronan, Adam thought; a strange, creeping feeling seeping through him. Buoyant and sinking; buzzing and quiet, a blush raced along his cheeks, his neck, his ears. 

Flinging his blanket off Adam watched as a rain of red, pink, orange and white seemed suspending in the air for a fraction, before tumbling to the ground, swaying on an invisible breeze. Padding his way across the room, feet curling in pleasure at the velvet beneath his soles, Adam neared a blue post it clinging to the frame of his bathroom door. He recognized the slanted messy scrawl as Ronan's idea of handwriting:

'Go to prom with me fucker?'

Adam stilled, lips trembling, eyes crumpling, chest heaving as he broke down laughing, clutching at the door frame to keep up right. It was such a Ronan way of asking. At once arrogant, sweet and painstakingly thoughtful. Spinning around he took inventory of the room once again, the effort, the time it would have taken him to do this. It seemed all the post it had the same words, multiplied over and over again. A sharp thread tugged through Adam, almost like pain, like sadness, it was a thing too big: intangible, but with weight as it spooled through Adam, draping over all the jagged pieces of him, the pieces that had been cobbled together these two years by Gansey, by Noah, by Henry, by Blue, but mostly. Most thoroughly by Ronan. Two lone years slipped down Adam's cheeks, leaving tracks of exultance on his face and Adam thought: oh, this is what it feels like to be so happy you cry. So happy it seems like you might explode, showering the world with light so pure it hurts to look at.

Making his way to his cupboard: a staggering piece with a missing back, Adam dug out the money he had set aside to buy Ronan something for when Adam asked him. Adam stared at the small stack, thinking a million things, but most prominently that Ronan did want to go to prom with Adam, it had always been Adam's own mind supplying the reasons he wouldn't want to. Ronan wanted to go to prom. Ronan wanted to go to prom with him. 

Grinning Adam strode into the bathroom, where he snorting, chuckling to the empty apartment, never so much like home as then, because Ronan had covered the bathroom too, the bathtub filled to the brim with post it and petals. Of course he had.

After the shower, Adam left for school quickly, a large bag filled with everything he needed, not bothering to wait for Ronan: he wasn't picking Adam up today. He unchained his bike, waving a good morning to the weathered nun, whom Adam always saw tending the small garden behind St. Agnes: bent with age but with eyes that carried a youthful spark and even a glint of mischief as she waved a dirt streaked hand in response.

The ride to school was not uncomfortable, in the sense that Adam had taken it too many times to find it so. Especially when there were far worse things he had experienced, like the Camaro when it had once again broken down on a day when the sun seemed to pulse with heat. It had been a rare excursion, one including only him and Gansey, the doors had jammed and they had been serious danger of heat stroke, yet Gansey still refused to let the old car go.

Today the heat seemed less oppressive in comparison, which was to be expected, for no day would come close to that immortalised, epitimised day. It was the way of such things in memory. Still, there was no sign of last night's chill and Adam would almost believe it to be a dream, if it were not for the bruises peppering Adam's neck, collarbone and down his chest; the places Ronan had paid much attention to last night. Adam wore a t-shirt, fairly new, one he had allowed Maura to gift him last Christmas: a storm grey that brought out his eyes and the black jeans to go with, also given at the same Christmas by Maura's boyfriend: Allan Dean. (He had dirtied his uniform whilst helping Henry with prom banners, who had insisted Adam let him dry clean as he had been the one to spill paint on it; Adam had obliged; Henry was supposed to hand it to him at school, before class today.) Though Adam suspected it too was a gift from Maura, he had said nothing. Content to bask in the atmosphere at Blue's: merriment, teasing and loud, persistent love for each other including Adam.

Riding against the warm wind, Adam cleared the large metal gates, unfurling in spirals, higher than even the walls in between which they stood. All gleaming, polished metal. Adam neared his usual parking space, for bikes, even though his was the only one that would be strapped there; this year and perhaps for a few to come, he spotted Ronan's car parked in it's usual apace next to it: as if Ronan had burst in, stepping out as it turned, judging from the skid marks and angle of the car. Knowing Ronan that's probably exactly what he had done, perhaps even flipped the bird and cruelly smirked after, daring anyone to reprimand him, oppose him. There was no Ronan in sight, however, judging by the height of the hair that made its way to him, Henry was, with Adam's uniform as promised.

Adam pulled over, barely getting to thank Henry as the other boy impatiently thrust the package to him, giving a clipped wave over his back, while shouting: "Things to do Parrish. Plans to executel" which was, an extremely Henry thing to say and do.  
Locking his bike up, Adam spent a few minutes in Ronan's car, having opened it through nefarious means taught to him by Ronan himself, before rushing off to change into his uniform.

His first class was one he shared with Gansey, but not Ronan, it was a surprise Ronan had even showed up. He cut class often, though not as much as the years before, when Adam was just coming to know him, when the shadow of his father's brutal death still twisted with Ronan's own; warping it. Adam smiled a hello to Gansey, who held out a fist in return: a charming and boyish gesture that had instantly, irrevocably endeared Adam to him when first presented with it. Knocking it in response Adam sat down next to Gansey, silently taking notes and participating throughout the lesson; stopping to discuss when prompted by the thin, eagle faced teacher. Lanky and tall with piercing dark eyes that could give Ronan a run for his money. Almost. She was known as the 'mummified devil' amongst the less diligent of his classmates. Mummy, because she taught Advanced World History. The reason for devil varies from student to student.

As the bell rang, Gansey and Adam made their way with the rest of the students filtering out to second period.

"Did you ask Blue?" Adam queried nonchalant, sure to keep his voice purposefully neutral as he recalled the events from this morning.

"Oh no. I plan to tonight. It had taken a while to get the quiditty of the evening perfect, but I have it all under wraps now. Not to worry Adam."

"Who the fuck says quiditty Gansey?" came Ronan's voice from somewhere behind him, before he felt an arm drape across his neck, stroking a particularly prominent mark along the juncture of Adam's neck and shoulder. Ronan's touch was tender, slow, sending shivers racing up Adam's spine.

"Adam --- "

Gansey's gaze fell to Ronan's hand, flicking around, face flushing brighter with each new mark discovered.

"Gansey? Do you mind if I steal Adam for a while?" Ronan smirked, interrupting the ogling.

Clearing his throat, Gansey answered, not looking Ronan, or Adam, but squinting over their shoulders.

"Of course, of course, why not -- I'll just -- I'll -- is that Noah? I do believe so. See you two later."

And with that he particularly ran away from them both.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy! I loved writing this chapter. <3

Huffing a laugh, Adam twisted back to look Ronan in the face, "Was that really necessary?"

Shrugging, Ronan just curled his lips up; unremorseful, unrepentant. He breathed out a soft laugh. This was the Ronan Gansey had been finding so long. Luckily for him, he had got one better. For this Ronan knew the horrors that existed, he even shared living space with a few, but this Ronan smiled anyway, laughed anyway. This was no new, shiny Ronan; it was the same cleaved version. Like a cluster of scarlet blooms in the raptured site of an earthquake: brown dirt splayed, neon green trees uprooted, glass skyscrapers paused in mid-crash. He was savage, frightening and inadvertently alluring. A conduit for destruction past. A promise of annihilation yet to come. Adam smirked back, mischievous. He loved earthquakes. Before Ronan could say anything, Adam nodded behind him. Follow me? Ronan's head bobbed in answer. The only one Adam was likely to get.

Setting off, the two wove through the corridor, Ronan bursting out into the open courtyard as if he had been inside class for years, rather than the last hour. This Lynch was not a thing that belonged in a classroom. 

Adam stopped just under an alcove, a niche in the building big enough for two people in close quarters. His shoulders seemed to heave, his hands trembling just slightly. You had to know Adam Parrish to pick up these infinitesimal tells, lucky for Ronan, there was little else he devoted himself to the same way he did to the study of Adam Parrish.

Adam bent down, letting the bag fall off his shoulder. It was a fadef, second hand one he'd found for only a few dollars. The action seem to cause him great pain. Ronan frowned.

He gently opened the bag, leaning his body in so Ronan couldn't see, Adam hesitated. Hand hovering mid way in, his skin brushed the cheap plastic of the overused zip. It seemed so silly now. What was he doing? This seemed inconsequential, pathetic even.

A six petalled, lilac flower growing from a dark saturated bud, peeked out from a bell shaped cluster of bright yellow flowers. They lay just out of Adam's reach. It had taken Adam a lot of bribing and volunteering at the local florists to get these particular flowers imported to Virginia, days of planning, a leakage of his bank account to make sure they came in a week, but...  
"Adam?" Ronan called.

Adam hadn't realized how long he had been crouched there, no more students were milling about, most of them already in class. The rest already probably on their way off campus. Clearing his throat, Adam scooped the pitifully small bouquet from his bag, keeping it behind him, as he turned to Ronan.  
"So... I got your petals and post it 's this morning."

Ronan stilled, shoulders hunching slightly, face tight. Maybe that was what Adam was nervous about. He didn't want to go aftetall. Ronan ignored the shard that ripped through his chest, splinters snagging into his flesh. He didn't know why it hurt so much.

"And uh, I'm happy you asked, just --" Adam saw Ronan's face go blank. Like shutters on a window, closed with a snap.  
"No, don't do that. Ronan. Listen to me first. I was planning to ask you too and I know it's not much..." He sighed, scuffing his shoe on the ground; hard."I feel stupid now. Here."

Adam thrust the flowers forward, watching as Ronan's expression softened before freezing once again: grief, astonishment, love were a slideshow on the screen that was Ronan's face. Trembling he reached forward, cradling the flowers, less than a dozen in his fingers; gently. There was such pain in his features, such profound pain and happiness that Adam took a step back as if it were a physical force.  
"How..." he croaked , voice dipped in emotion: raw 

"I remember you spoke about the flowers your father used to get for your mother, the native Irish ones. The two you especially loved. I just couldn't get the image of a miniature, curly haired Ronan stealing them and getting scolded by your mother. I..."  
Adam trailed off.

"Is it too much?" he asked trepident, quiet.

Ronan didn't seem to hear him. "The yellow ones are call Broom -- Cytisus scoparius -- and the purple ones are the spring squill - sciolla earraigh. My mom."  
It was a full stop. An end in conversation. A clause filled with too much meaning, too much hurt. Too many memories. Ronan's eyes gleamed, and Adam looked on amazed yet again. At how acutely Ronan felt, his heart breaking a little at the pain shining in Ronan's eyes. He closed his eyes, head dipped; a study in greif; a stone statue at the edge of a grave. By the time he looked up, the grief was buried. And here was what was left behind: a brittle boy with snake eyes.

"Yes, that was my answer." Adam slipped his hands into his pockets, a small smile curling his mouth. "I wanted to ask too, because I already had it planned. Probably before you." 

Ronan's eyes lit up.

"Will you go to prom with me Ronan Lynch?"

The answering grin was bright and soft, but a twitch of the mouth, despite the villages burning in Ronan's eyes.

"Yes, you absolutely brilliant fucker. Of fucking course."

Adam shook his head. Lips curled dryly. Eyes crumbling in pleasure.

"Yes." Ronan said simply. "I have to fucking swear." 

"I didn't say anything."

"You're thinking it Parrish."

Adam shrugged. Smile widening. "I read some folklore believes the Cytisus scoparius can tame wild dogs and horses." He began walking. "Might work on you."

Ronan scoffed, busy scouring his bag for something. Adam watched as he took the spring squall and a Cytisus scoparius, pressing it gently into a tome he was carrying: ancient and weathered. No doubt Gansey's.

"He's not getting this back."

Ronan smirked at the impending exasperated expression of Gansey's. "What about the sciolla earraigh?" His lips curled softly around the words in familiarity.back

"Oh those, they have poisonous bulbs. Don't eat them Lynch."

Ronan stilled, head cocking as his gaze landed on Adam. Adam's own eyes gleamed back with mirth.

Ronan's answering cackle echoed around the courtyard, like pebbles on concrete. It sounded like metal wishes plinking in a well, like freedom. 

"I'll try." was all he said. Engulfing Adam's hands in his, he brushed his fingers across the knuckles: reverent. Pointedly Ronan tucked the remaining blooms, behind his ear. Incongruous with his rumpled uniform and harsh features.

The walls could profess witness to the floor. But what they saw wasn't overblowm, or scandalous, but the barely there gestures. And perhaps it was due to the simplicity of their actions: hands; held, lips; curled, gaits; unhurried, that they spoke volumes, sang verses, spurred revolutions. It was clarity. As if there was no other place, no other way they could be. 

So they walked, hand in hand to Latin with Adam marveling at the boy he had come to love so fervently: a sharp tongued viper bedecked in hickeys and flowers the colour of sunshine. 

While Ronan existed in snapshots; he was:

Flash

A molotov cocktail on the bring of exploding.

Flash

A flash of teeth in the driver's window.

Flash

A grain of soil in a field of the barns.

Flash

A drop of gasoline suspending above flame.

He was oceans warring, stuffed in a human body; roiling and tumultous.  
Adam must have muttered an apology to the teacher as they walked in, he played little attention. Ronan refrained from muttering his particular brand of plethora, so really it was a win for all. He did however scowl most vehemently at Mr. Gray -- a teacher -- who wore grey like Ronan wore black: a little religiously, a little dangerously. Everything about Mr. Gray was meticulous, sleek, unassuming, lined with the promise of something else, something more. This Mr. Gray also happened to be Maura's boyfriend, so Adam's explaination on his tardiness was nothing short of awkward. For him that is. Mr. Gray just raised an unimpressed eyebrow, reminded them of the standards he expected to be upheld for his class and sent them off to their seats. The corner of his handsome lips lifting a fraction in Ronan's direction. Some teacher. 

Adam was simultaneously amuse and impressed at the taunt. Here was a teacher who did not care which wealthy lineage Ronan hailed from, which intimidating face he put on. So Adam may have had a miniscule crush on him upon introduction a year ago, that was neither here nor there. Mr. Gray's no non-sense attitude, charming manners and incredible looks had reeled Adam in. It hadn't been the blushing and giggling crush that people assume, it was Adam admitting the coalition of such characteristics was attractive. So Adam had looked and admired and allowed himself to be impressed, but it was no more than how one would look upon a picturesque landscape to unwind after a long week. 

Predictably, Ronan had picked up on it and deemed it a personal affront. And so began Ronan's bias dislike for the man, which had only simmered down now that Mr. Gray was dated Ronan's friend 's mother. But not by much. The air was heavy with the uncomfortable silence that comes from a student standing two steps from a teacher, all the while glaring at said teacher after interrupting mid-lesson. In fact the only people not uncomfortable were the two involved. Sighing, Adam tugged Ronan, breaking the eye contact and made his way to his seat. Ronan stared at Mr. Gray a beat longer before following Adam.  
Mr. Gray did not look impressed.

Gansey who had been watching the ordeal tended and ready to intervene Reaching him, Adam deftly knocked fists in greeting. Settling down, he dove into notes taking at a speed Ronan perceived to be ungodly. He himself just grunted, throwing himself into the chair, levelling an icy gaze to anyone who dared comment. Gansey frowned, but said nothing.

Adam only looked at Ronan once: lips twisted viciously, eyes like the edge of glaciers, fingers drumming the table. He all but lounged in the chair. The tangible infestation of arrogance and disdain from his untucked, rumpled shirt to the mud streaked boot. His tie more small boulder than cloth. It was a physical representation of Ronan; coarse, angry, material coiled tight enough to be a potential weapon.

The rest of the day had gone for Ronan like any other, classes, classes, classes: few he attended, fewer still be wasn't kicked out off. Entering that classroom with the Adam had sent a thrill, a hope in Ronan so profound, he no longer could resent the poets for their punitive addition to the curriculum; monotonous verses on love and life. Ronan felt he could write many books about Adam, on the tilt of his chin, the smile flitting on his soft lips, the furrow of concentration between his brows.  
The thought terrified him.

Even though Adam had given Ronan an affirmation today, a sure sign of wanting more, Ronan still felt thirsty, parched, aching. He wanted it all. It wasn't that he wasn't grateful for the progress. No. God no. He was ecstatic. It felt like everything and nothing he'd imagined: it tasted like summer rain, like he was drunk on lightning strikes and thunder.

But the ache.

The goddamn ache. He thought having Adam would sate him, but it seemed ever little piece Adam gave him, every little piece he gave back, every step forward; each smile, each touch, each moment left him hungrier. It felt like dying, like being born. It felt like a second chance.

And it hurt like a motherfucker.

Ronan's fingers stuttered on Adam's neck, where he was drumming a nonsense tune, while him and Gansey had a conversation about the usual; a coalition of leylines and coincidences. Adam looked over to where Ronan was standing scowling. Scowling was what his face did when Ronan checked out from reality, it was one of the things he had gotten from his father. From his mother... she was more like Matthew: a landscape of soft rolling hills and tinkering laughter. Loved by all, but most ardently by her husband.

Naill Lynch was never more delighted, more calm, more exuberant than when he was in her presence. She was the moon to his planet. Never did she glow as brightly, as she did in his orbit. Niall Lynch had been many things when Aurora had met: a con man, a liar, a thief, but only through her had he become a person. And not just a rumour, a story to tell on drunk nights. Mind you, he was still a con man, a liar and a thief, but now he was simply also a person. Aurora had not changed a thing of Niall, had not wanted to. She had seen everything that he was and loved him for it, not despite. 

"-- with Ronan I'll assume?"

Ronan catching the end of the conversation was already turning away, grunting a goodbye to Gansey, when he froze at the sight of his car. He was going to slaughter whoever had done this. Slowly.

What exactly, the perpetrator had done, he was still unsure. There seemed some sort of covering on all of his windows. On the inside no less. Hissing, Ronan stalked his way to the.car, anger lining his body.

There is a moment where your mind flits across a connection, linking dots to a bigger picture before you're fully aware; a moment when you hear the words but the conscious processing has not yet begun; like asking someone to repeat their sentence, but realising you know what they said a second later. 

Similarly, when Ronan spied every and all glass surfaces of his car covered, he swerved through sharp corners of emotion: anger, confusion, realisation, delight. A pause. Delight like wild fire razed through his veins. It tasted like the crisp dawn in autumn.

"You absolute fucker."

"Its only fair we both clean up. Open the boot, I need to put my bike in there." For it was not some vandal who had broken into Ronan's car, but Adam  
The car was covered in post its.

With his own writing on them. Hands in pockets, Ronan watched on, amused, as Adam made his way to the boot and lifted his bike into the bmw. The action bunching the muscles under his pristine shirt to bunch in a way that could only be described as distracting. Slamming the back shut, Adam made his way to the front and merely sat in the car. Eyes rolling with mischief as he held the door open, one foot out.

"Coming Lynch?" 

Knowing full well Ronan had to peel the post its off the windows and mirrors he smirked. Not dignifying this with a verbal response, Ronan sneered. Flicking a finger in Adam's direction, he went to do as much, but the gestures lacked the usual vitriol with which they were handed out. And though no one could accuse Ronan of smiling at the moment, his eyes glittered; oceans under moonlight.

The vicious knife's edge to his features sharpened with each day gone, but it was not as bitter as it once was, though it retained the same cruelty. All that had changed in the last years, was that now Ronan had fout more reasons to slice those that would be foolish enough to cross his path.

Pulling the driver side door, Ronan flashed a grin at Adam. He was a slash of white, saturated cerulean; burning, cutting Adam open. Spilling happiness amongst their feet, it pooled over the petals on the the gleaming dash, the leather seats, the scratchy mats, joining with the ripped artery that was Ronan's joy. 

The engine rumbled to life; Adam looked at Ronan.

The machine growled, low and soronous; Adam laid his hand on Ronan's.

The car screeched out of the lot; Adam's laughter burst out like a flock of sparrows: euphoric.


End file.
